


daddy gave me a name (then he walked away)

by AlrightDarlin (WhoopsOK)



Series: The Foxhole Kits [9]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Abandonment, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But there's fluff I promise, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Gen, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, Holidays, Parental David Wymack, Referenced Non-Sexual Age Play, Seth Gordon Lives, Seth gets to yell at his birth father
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 08:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28348749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/AlrightDarlin
Summary: Seth Gordon is far closer to thirty than twenty when Bryan Gordon decides he’s ready to be a father.(Seth has been trying to reconcile with his mother, so he and Jean agree to visit for Christmas. It was an ambush.)
Relationships: Seth Gordon & Jean Moreau, Seth Gordon & The Foxes
Series: The Foxhole Kits [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1288151
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	daddy gave me a name (then he walked away)

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy!! As you could probably guess, there are some uncomfortable/unhealthy family dynamics in this, but there is comfort in the end. I also don’t remember how much the extra bits said about Seth’s brothers, so their brief appearances are just OCs.
> 
> Also… if you’re wondering about that ship…yeah. Yeah, I do.
> 
> The title is from the song “Father of Mine” by Everclear (if you’ve never heard it, peep those lyrics)

Seth Gordon is far closer to thirty than twenty when Bryan Gordon decides he’s ready to be a father.

The thing that really grinds Seth’s gears—that has him walking a circle around his therapist’s office trying to keep his cool weeks later—is that it blindsides him when he should’ve known better. His mother was too insistent about him coming home for Christmas.

“You don’t have to come,” Seth had told Jean, for no less than the seventh time that day. “I can make an excuse for you.”

Jean had hardly glanced at him, bags already packed. “We already talked about this,” he replied, because they had.

Since the moment they graduated they’d made the effort to stay ahead of their demons _together_. They’d been standing in their apartment, surrounded by the boxes they still needed to unpack and looking at more of a future than either had ever had before when they promised: neither one of them had to face anything alone, not ever again.

So, when Seth’s mom tracked him down and started calling in the middle of their second season, Jean had waited for Seth to tell him where to go. He’d wound up sitting on the couch beside him while Seth guardedly updated her on the milestones she’d missed, checked in on his siblings.

So, when Seth’s mom asked him on Skype if he had anyone in his life, Jean was there to catch his gaze as he glanced up and said, “I—uh, yeah, sorta? I mean, Jean’s been with me a few years now?” like _that_ was the question she was really asking, like it wasn’t the most wonderful and terrifying thing Jean has ever heard.

So, after a surprised “…oh!” and a series of stiff, but increasingly less awkward Skype calls when she starts asking them home for Christmas, Jean agrees when Seth does.

Jean regrets it about five steps into the door.

The trip the Sunday before Christmas passes with Seth telling Jean little things he’d never mentioned, maybe had even forgotten about growing up in Birmingham. The places he got in trouble and won’t go back to; the places he ate the best food he’s ever had. The places he never had money to get into, but would take Jean to see if they had time. It keeps them steady the whole way there, keeps Seth’s nerves _just_ on this side of excited instead of terrified.

Then Rebecca answers the door, all dressed up and nervously fluttering around as she greets them like she hasn’t been expecting them for a month now.

Then Seth slams to a halt so abruptly Jean nearly crashes into his back. He’s about to snap something at him, just to keep his feet moving when he catches sight of what Seth is looking at.

Jean sees too much of Seth’s face in the man standing at the end of the hall to have any illusions about who he’s looking at. It has his stomach sinking through the floor.

“There’s my boy,” Bryan says, holding his arms out and smiling wide. “But God, look at you! ‘Boy’ ain’t exactly right anymore, is it?” he comments as he strides forward.

Seth visibly comes back to himself before Bryan can get in arm’s distance. “No,” he says and it comes out so wavering Jean coils up like a snake, fully prepared to strike if Seth can’t. That crack in his voice seems to startle Seth all the way back to reality, though, his voice firmer when he continues, “No, _no_. I’m not— I’m not doing this.”

The surprised, rebuked look on Bryan’s face barely has time to register before Seth is turning back down the hall towards the front door, Jean rushing to follow.

“ _Seth!_ ” Rebecca snaps, grabbing at him as he passes. He snatches his arm away, fumbles open the lock on the front door. “Don’t be rude! What—?”

“No, it’s okay,” Bryan says, but Jean doesn’t look back to see what his face is doing, Seth’s hands are shaking as he tries to get the rental keys back out of his pocket and Jean can’t get his eyes off them. “He’s got every right to be angry.”

Jean feels how much that’s a bad choice of words before Seth whirls around, livid. “You don’t get to tell me what I have the _right_ to be,” he shouts immediately, and the betrayal on his face when he looks at his mom leaves ice in Jean’s stomach. “What the _fuck_ , Ma!”

“Watch your _mouth_ ,” Rebecca shouts right back, but Bryan is still walking towards them.

“Ok, son, hold on—”

Bryan doesn’t know it, couldn’t possibly imagine. But the last time someone called Seth ‘son’ was when he’d told Wymack he was coming here. “ _Alright, son, call me if you need me,_ ” said with the casualness of someone who loves him without having to think about it, without having to question it. The casualness of someone who gave him _years_ of reassurances and stood by every single one of them, who knows exactly where they both stand.

The thought that Bryan feels like the same word belongs in his mouth actually pisses Seth off so much he stops just short of swinging on him. He hasn’t been that person in years, he doesn’t want to be him again. With effort, he unclenches his fist, raises his hand to wave him off, “ _Bryan—_ ”

“You can’t even call me _dad_ anymore?” he interrupts, the confusion in his voice so misplaced Jean can’t quite help the way his face screws up.

“You’re _not_ my dad anymore,” Seth laughs, caustic and loud. “When you left, I had to move on without you and I _did_. I went to college, I got sober, I got a fucking degree and a _life_ , all without you!” He counts off on his fingers, before pointing at him accusingly. “You don’t get to come back in here after all the hard shit is done and decide _now_ you care.”

“Don’t you dare,” Bryan snaps, confusion replaced by outrage. “I always cared about you.”

“Is that why you abandoned us!?” Seth shouts. “I don’t want to sit here and relive all that shit! I have—” The words fumble in his mouth, not because they’re untrue, but because the thought chokes him up a little. This isn’t what home is supposed to be like. “I have a family, one I don’t constantly worry is gonna walk out on me and it took me _years_ to build that, do you get that? Do you get what you did to us?”

Bryan is looking far more frustrated than contrite. “I’m trying to make it up to you.”

On some level, maybe Seth gets that; he’s had to do his own atoning, too. But not on these terms, not right now when he’s closer to boiling over than he has been since he got clean. “I’m not ready to hear it,” he says, finally getting his keys out of his pocket.

“Ok, I—” Bryan tries to change gears, raises his hands pacifyingly. “Look, Junior, please…”

“No, don’t call me that, I’m a grown ass man,” Seth snaps, but _fuck_ he wants his gator and Wymack to hug him in the worst way. “You weren’t there when I needed you, when we _all_ needed you,” he motions at his youngest brother in the doorway, his mother standing there with tears in her eyes like _he’s_ doing something wrong here. “You’ve already proved it doesn’t matter how bad anyone needs you, you can just bail and…” He is _not_ going to cry for him, he’s not, but his eyes are burning and he needs to _leave_. “I can’t _trust_ anything from you!”

“You can’t just _walk away._ ” Seth stares at him, face twisted in disbelief at the _gall_ , even as Bryan seems to realize what he just said, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Seth…”

“Nah, I think I’ll follow in my old man’s footsteps,” Seth says because now he’s burning out. He’s so angry he can barely breathe around it, even as he walks towards the car and calls over his shoulder. “Not even a goodbye, right?”

Jean doesn’t speak, because he doesn’t have any words that would make this better. He takes the keys without saying anything, because Seth is breathing through his teeth, tears pooled in his eyes and as bad as he wants to leave, he wants to crash the car less. Seth hates it, this kind of vulnerability, but never more so than when there’s someone else there to witness it. He slams the passenger door and stares down at the gearshift as Jean gets in the driver’s seat. He barely adjusts the seat enough to drive before he pulls off.

They’ve barely made it to the end of the block when Seth’s tears spill over and he snarls into his hands, “ _Don’t_.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Jean says, completely honestly. There’s a bit of alarm ringing in the back of his mind, distantly terrified of being trapped in a car with someone angry. He thinks the anger is a little more than justified this time, though, can feel sympathetic rage churning in his stomach.

Still, it’s taking everything Seth has in him not to punch out the window of the rental. “Jean,” he scrubs his face, tries to articulate clearly, “Jean, I am so fucking pissed off right now.”

They’ve got this relationship down to a science at this point, they have to if they’re going to make it work without triggering each other. So Jean hears what Seth is saying. Seth is too angry to keep his temper in check the way Jean needs him to. If they stay together right now, Seth is just going to unload on Jean.

Jean appreciates the courtesy of an out, but damn if he wants to leave Seth alone in the place where all his demons come from. “We’re going back to the hotel,” Jean says, trying to hold his voice steady. “Do you want to walk there?”

Seth’s jaw is clenched tight; his whole body a line of tension. Still, he nods, because he trusts himself that far. There were days when he couldn’t have, not when he knows every place to get in trouble in the neighborhood, but he’s not going back to the person he became when Bryan walked away. That person didn’t have the support he does now, the strength. He just needs to cool off before he lets Jean be there for him. He wipes his face one more time, before rubbing his sweating hands on his pants.

When Jean stops the car, Seth can’t look at him for long, just a flicker of his eyes to verify he’s still there. He does squeeze his knee, though, before he gets out of the car.

The space he leaves behind feels oppressively silent.

Jean gives him almost an hour before he calls in reinforcements.

//

Holidays in the Winfield-Wymack household have become a rather joyous affair in recent years.

The new freshmen take to being cared for with the same level of distain most foxes do, but by this point they’ve generally come to tolerate the fussing of older teammates. Wymack, Bee, and Abby have keeping track of them down to a science while still giving them space. Many go home, many stay in the dorms and Wymack spends Christmas eve-eve with them, giving them as much parental energy as they can tolerate (which is not much).

Then he comes home to whichever of his kits is spending the holiday with them this time and babies the hell out of them.

This year, Aaron has gone to be with Katelyn and her family and, in a truly shocking turn of events, Seth has taken Jean to meet his mother and siblings. That leaves him with the other three Monsters on this side of the Atlantic, all tucked in and sweet as they sit around chatting and watching holiday movies. Even Andrew seems to be in a good mood, feet tucked under Kevin’s thigh as he leans into Abby’s shoulder.

Then Wymack’s phone rings.

It’s never _off_ , because there is a method to running a team of emotionally recalcitrant disasters that involves answering the phone if something’s gone bad enough for one of them to actually _call_ him.

That’s not what this is, though, because Abby did actually change all his ringtones recently so he knows it’s one of his kits. He presses a kiss to Neil’s temple as he gets out from under him to grab his phone where it’s charging on the counter.

Wymack smiles when he sees Jean calling. “Hey, kiddo, how’s Birmingham?”

Jean doesn’t return the greeting. “ _Papa, can you call Seth?_ ”

Ice immediately drops into Wymack’s stomach, snatching the smile off his face. “What happened?”

“ _His—_ ” Jean stops, spits, “ _Bryan was here._ ”

“…Bryan _Gordon?_ ” Wymack clarifies sharply, the alarm and outrage in his voice matched on everyone’s faces when he glances over at them.

“ _Yes,_ ” Jean snarls. “ _Nothing hap—We left, but he was so… Papa…_ ”

There’s a pleading tone to his voice that Wymack has never needed out of any of his kids. “I’ll call you back, J.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Jean says and hangs up the phone.

Abby looks fit to be tied. “I’m sorry, did you just say—?”

“I did,” Wymack answers, already scrolling through his contacts. “I’m gonna call him, give me a few.” He says, ruffling Andrew’s hair on his way past and squeezing Abby’s shoulder.

The phone rings for so long after Wymack shuts the door to the bedroom, that for a scary moment he thinks Seth might ice him out. Then the line connects to silence.

“…Seth?”

“ _…Hey,_ ” he gets back, so flat and void it doesn’t actually hide anything at all. “ _J called?_ ”

“Yeah, he did, buddy. You doing ok?” Wymack asks and his voice, his genuine concern is apparently enough to send Seth over the edge.

“ _Pop, I…_ ” he gets out, but then he’s just sobbing. Quietly, but too close to the speaker for Wymack to miss and his heart _hurts_. “ _I fucking **hate** this!_”

“I know, bud, I’m so sorry,” Wymack soothes gently. “Talk to me, what’s going on?”

Seth sniffs and Wymack can imagine him gruffly wiping his face against an onslaught of tears. “ _Mom wanted him to be a surprise,_ ” he snarls. “ _Like I was supposed to be happy to see him, like I was the same dumb kid who thought he was gonna come back, that he cared— **Fuck!** ”_ He hits something the vibrates metallically under the abuse and Wymack winces.

He would like to look really deep in to Rebecca Gordon’s face and ask exactly what the fuck is wrong with her.

“ _And then—and_ then _Bryan had the fucking balls to—to tell me that he always cared and that I couldn’t just walk away,_ ” Seth continues, properly on a roll now, rather justifiably Wymack believes even if he’s hurting to hear it. “ _Like he doesn’t fucking know what he did to us, did to_ me _, like I’m just supposed to get over because he decided he’s ready to give a shit and—_ ” His breathing is rushing away from him, voice getting high and tight. “ _I don’t wanna fucking be his kid again, I can’t, I can’t, I worked too hard to—_ ”

“Seth, _Seth_ , breathe for me, pal,” Wymack interrupts softly, waiting as he does, noisily like he can’t help it. “You don’t have to be his kid, not anymore. He lost the right to claim you when he walked out on you. If he wants to make amends for that, he’s gotta do it on your terms. He can’t force you back into a relationship you aren’t ready for.”

“ _It’s not—_ ” Seth sniffs again, but he doesn’t sound as close to a complete breakdown this time. “ _I’m ready with you. I trust you and you proved I could, pop, I don’t want him to be the same thing to me, he can’t be…_ ” His voice lowers. “ _I don’t want him to take this from us._ ”

Wymack loves this kid so much. He wants more than anything to wrap him up and rock him until he’s quieted, but he’ll settle for soothing the trembling fear in his son’s voice. “Kiddo, you don’t ever have to worry about that, not ever. You’re _mine_ , Seth, I’m not giving you up for anybody, least of all _Bryan Fucking Gordon_. You hear me?”

Seth’s voice is gummy, but his answer is immediate. “ _Yeah, pop, I—Yeah. I just…_ ” He takes a deep breath. “ _What do I do?_ ”

“What do you _want_ to do?”

“ _I don’t know,_ ” Seth answers with a laugh that is not at all funny.

Wymack frowns. “Ok, buddy, can I suggest some things?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Don’t be alone right now,” Wymack says first because, this sucks, it really does, but Seth does not have to be alone with his ghosts, thankfully. “Go back to Jean and let him be close to you, even if you can’t talk. Get some food, get some rest. Then in the morning, think about where you want to be.”

“ _With you,_ ” Seth answers instantly. “ _Pop, I wanna come home._ ”

The words warm bright in Wymack’s chest, the idea that he’s managed to create a home so solidly for his kits that they think of it like that without question. “Then come home, Seth,” he says with no hesitation, “You’re always welcome here.”

“ _Ok, I… Thanks, pop, I can do that,_ ” Seth agrees and Wymack can feel the way he’s pulling himself back together through the phone.

“I know you can,” Wymack assures him. “Do you want me to stay on the line with you?”

“ _No, I’m… I wanna cool down a bit,_ ” he replies. “ _I’m not far from the hotel._ ”

Wymack is reluctant to let him go, he always is, but now especially. “…Okay, Seth, text me when you get there. I love you.”

“ _I will. I love you, too,_ ” Seth replies, embarrassed and pleased all at once like a son should be.

When the line disconnects, Wymack just sighs for a moment. He’s spent a lot of time reminding himself not to bother wishing for things that his foxes can’t have and he does again today. Seth deserves a family that treats him well and makes him feel loved, but there’s nothing to be gained from wishing that of the Gordon household.

At least he can go tell his kids their big brother is coming home for Christmas knowing they’ll all be as happy to have him as he’ll be to get here.

//

On the short walk to the hotel, Seth’s phone fills up with messages from everyone.

The calls from his mom he ignores for now, because he _can’t_ , he knows she’s going to be all over the map and blame him for it and he just _can’t_. He doesn’t text his older brothers back, doesn’t need their vitriol right now, for however much he may agree with some of it. He tells his youngest brother he’s fine because he doesn’t want him to worry or start a fight. The foxes’ he just reads repeatedly, the rage in his chest dulling back down to a hurt only their warmth can soothe.

The lights are off when he comes in, but he sees Jean sit up on the bed in the sun setting through the window and the glow of the TV. “Seth?”

“Yeah,” Seth sighs, closing the door behind him. “Can we leave the lights off for a bit?”

“If you want to stumble around in the dark, that’s your choice,” Jean replies, tests out his sarcasm gently, but it does make Seth feel better.

“Fuck you,” he replies with the same blunted sharpness. He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, but that just means he falls back on his newest default.

Jean never really lays in the middle of a bed, so Seth falls into the space beside him like it’s meant for him.

It is, of course, but Jean doesn’t say that. He looks down at Seth who is steadfastly staring at the ceiling. “How are you?”

Seth doesn’t know how to answer that. He shrugs. “Pop says we can come home.”

Jean scoffs, scooting to lay down beside him. “I could’ve told you that.”

“I _will_ shove you out of this fucking bed.”

“I _will_ take you with me…” Jean snaps, but then gentles his voice. “Do you want to say goodbye to the others?”

The thought makes his stomach twist, the anger he feels getting wrapped in a throb of heartbreak. This feels so final, Seth thinks he may regret not doing it. He regrets coming at all, too, though. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Jean says and doesn’t push.

Seth still feels an agitated energy in the back of his mind, the stillness of the room proving to be worse for him in this state, actually, even with the comfort of Jean’s presence. And well, pop had said…

“You feelin’ okay to go get dinner?” Seth asks.

Jean looks away from the TV. “I should be asking you that, no?” he nudges, but sits up, unphased by Seth’s sour look. “Where are we going?”

They wind up sitting nearly hip to hip at the smokehouse Seth hasn’t been in since high school. The manager remembers him—unfortunately—but laughs about him being a grown up and a _celebrity_ now, so it’s better than the alternative of getting kicked out. Again.

It’s a kitschy place, full of aggressive levels of southern charm and trinkets that Seth can only half explain to Jean with any sort of confidence. Jean seems to be enjoying himself, though, if the way he’s getting back to his usual levels of companiable snark is any indication. He says the food is too messy, but also eats his entire plate and half of Seth’s cornbread so Seth sees through him.

They do a little walking after they eat just to blow off some steam. It’s dark, so they don’t go very far, but Seth does point out a few things, the scenes of a few fonder memories. Their flight doesn’t leave until tomorrow evening, so they may even get to see some.

By the time they get back to the hotel, Seth’s exhaustion is just about to win, but at least he feels a little less like rage is going to burn a hole in him. He’s got one hell of a story to tell his shrink in the new year, but tonight he can stay on level without sabotaging anything. Seth looks up as Jean comes out of the shower and—he’s still angry, horribly so, won’t make himself _ignore_ it. But he can try to focus on what he absolutely does have right now, how it’s still good and…as permanent as anything can be.

“Hey J,” Seth says when Jean gets close and, as soon as Jean looks at him, kisses his forehead. There’s a flicker of surprised tensing, before Jean unfreezes and leans into it, twining his arms around Seth’s waist. “Thank you,” he says, because they don’t waste ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’ on things that aren’t their fault.

Jean hums, tucked warmly against him. “We’re family, Seth.”

Yeah, they are. A damn good one, too.

//

Seth does elect to say goodbye in the morning, but really only to his brothers. Two of them anyway, Ezekiel, the youngest, and Luke, who was only two years older than Seth, but managed to dodge most of their older brothers’ ire by just…staying fucking quiet.

Ezekiel must’ve gotten some of the same genes Seth did, though, because he looks up from where he’s sitting on the stoop and says, “So that was some bullshit,” instead of hello.

Luke smacks him in the chest, but Seth just snorts. “Yeah, it was. He here?”

“Motel,” Luke answers. “Where’s Jean?”

Seth is a little surprised, can’t keep that off his face. “Grabbing breakfast,” he says, only because he _promised_ not to stay if it got ugly. “Didn’t want him around for round two if it became a shit show.”

“Is it gonna?” Luke challenges, because at the heart of him, he’s still a peacekeeper and just wants everyone to leave well enough alone. Seth never understood him.

“Not gonna stick around that long,” Seth says and tries to keep his teeth out of the words. “I know gift cards are shitty gifts, but I don’t exactly know what you’re up to these days,” he says, handing over the little bag of them. He almost fished out his mom’s out of spite, but he also didn’t want to fucking keep it.

Ezekiel takes the bag before Luke can, mostly because Luke still looks like he wants to say something, probably something condescending. Seth isn’t sure his temper can handle the conversation.

“I’m not tryna fight you about this,” Seth says before Luke can launch into anything.

It makes Luke roll his eyes. “Whatever, man. Have a safe flight,” he dismisses him, going back into the house and Seth doesn’t _want_ it to be like this, he really doesn’t, but he’s angry and at a loss. Having been around the Foxes so long, wrapped up in their particular brand of chaos, he’d forgotten that what this kind of dysfunction feels like. He knows how to have brothers, but not here. Even standing outside has his hackles raised and he’s itching for a fight in a way he hasn’t since…fuck, what, _junior year_?

Or yesterday, to be more accurate.

Ezekiel doesn’t bail immediately. “You coming back?” he asks blandly, and, yeah, that’s Seth’s kid brother because he knows that tone. He’s getting to the point where he’s old enough to be too cool for everything. It hurts Seth a little to know he’s upset and can’t articulate it any better than Seth could at that age.

That’s not something he can fix, though. He can just do his best, starting by being there and being honest. “I don’t know,” he admits with a shrug. “I’m not… I’m still kinda fucked up about—” it tastes bad to say it, but he’s not going to start shit for his brother, “—about _dad_ , man, I don’t wanna sit here and stew in it.”

“Yeah, well, lucky you,” Ezekiel scoffs, “Least I don’t remember him enough to give a shit.”

Seth knows that’s bait as easily as he can feel that it’s a lie. He doesn’t feel the need to rise to it or be just another adult to telling some kid how he feels.

“You still got _me_ , though,” he says instead, ruffling Ezekiel’s hair until his hand is batted away. “Whatever the fuck dad does, you still got me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ezekiel mutters as he gets to his feet. “Whatever.”

“Nah, _no_ , I mean it, Easy,” Seth says seriously, he holds out a fist to dap him up. “Call me if you need anything. Even just an ear, aight? I got you.”

There’s a moment where Ezekiel doesn’t look like he’s going to take that at face value—and why would he, honestly—but then he shrugs like it doesn’t matter, like he hasn’t got much to lose anyway. He bumps Seth’s knuckles. “Sure, Seth.”

Seth is just about to walk off when Rebecca opens the door. He hopes against all hope, he really does, that one day seeing her won’t make his stomach clench.

Ezekiel freezes like he’s been caught for a second, but then just steps around her arm. “Merry Christmas, man.”

Rebecca’s face is stony as she looks down at him. “Do you have _any_ idea how embarrassing yesterday was?”

“You shouldn’t have sprung him on me,” Seth shoots back instantly.

“He’s your _father._ ”

“You couldn’t even say his _name_ ,” he snarls under his breath, not interested in being neighborhood gossip fodder two days in a row. “You _changed my name_ because it hurt so much when he left, and now you want me to _trust_ him?”

“I trusted _you_ , I let you back here even though part of me knew better, you ungrateful boy,” Rebecca hisses and Seth feels a little like he’s been slapped. “All those years he was gone it was _you_ running me ragged and you never even had the grace to _apologize_. I thought we could try again, but you’re still making everything so difficult, Seth! What did I do to make you _hate_ me so much?”

That is the most manipulative bullshit Seth has ever heard in his goddamn life. “I don’t hate you,” he says, because he won’t give her the satisfaction of that much power over his feelings. “But I obviously can’t trust you. And I sure as shit don’t trust _Bryan._ ”

“He is _your father,_ ” Rebecca says again, tightly. “You’re gonna respect the man in the house if you want to _be_ in this house.”

Seth doesn’t know if she’s bluffing, but the fact that she said it at all pisses him off. He counts to three, three cows over a fence and breathes as they leap. It mostly works. “I’m the man of my own house.”

Rebecca folds her arms at that. “ _Are_ you?”

Actually, the breathing thing is not working and Seth needs to leave. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

//

The mood stays sour for the rest of the day, honestly, but Seth tries his best to be present. Jean recognizes this and they find easy, light things to rib each other about. They wind up spending most of the day alternating between casually walking tourist traps and texting the foxes (and Jeremy, who’s finally landed in his hometown).

Their flight was goddamn expensive to get so quickly around a holiday, but otherwise painless. Seth keeps his knee pressed against Jean’s but otherwise tries to space out watching the inflight movie. By the time they uber to Abby’s house, it’s the middle of the night and Seth just wants to crash.

Abby opens the door before they even have to knock and Seth feels like he can breathe again. He’s missed her. Before she even says anything, he already feels better when she smiles and that—it stings, that his mother can’t be that for him, but he has Abby. She pulls him in for a long hug as soon as he says hi, kissing his cheek when he kisses hers and he isn’t going to lose that.

Jean isn’t going to either as he shrinks into her hands, blushing and smiling as she fusses over how his hair now falls over his forehead. That’s almost as important.

“Hey, boys,” Wymack calls softly as he walks up, catching them both in a hug. He looks at Seth for a long time and Seth is—he’s just tired, now. The anger burned him down to exhaustion and he’s just glad to have his dad’s hands on him. “The Monsters got dibs on the guest room, but the pullout is all yours.”

“Is Kevin awake?” Jean asks eagerly, even if he sounds sleepy.

“They’re probably all awake,” Abby laughs softly, offering her hand. “Come say goodnight?”

Jean turns to bump his forehead against Seth’s jaw before he takes her hand. Wymack hardly waits for Jean to step out of the way to offer his arms to Seth again; Seth doesn’t bother playing shy. He folds against Wymack and just stays there a moment, only vaguely hearing Abby knock on the guest room door. “ _Can we come in? …Guess who!_ ”

“Gimme some feeling words, kid?” Wymack asks softly before Seth can hear anyone’s response.

Seth shakes his head, throat tight. “Tired,” he answers first. “Still mad and…” he takes a breath, has to force out, “ _hurt and scared._ But mostly tired.”

“Okay,” Wymack accepts, stroking his back. “Thank you for being honest with me. We’re gonna have you go to bed in a minute for tired, okay?” He says and continues when Seth nods, “Can you tell me about the other feelings?”

“It’s stupid, pop, you already told me,” Seth tries to deflect.

“It’s not stupid and I can tell you again,” Wymack reassures him. “Will you tell me?”

Seth doesn’t, not at first, but his pop always waits for him, with open arms and kind hands. So Seth eventually gets out, “I’m hurt because it always hurt that he left us,” he whispers shakily, embarrassed by the tears suddenly dampening Wymack’s shoulder. “I’m angry that he put us through that and expected me to be happy he came back. And I’m scared him being back will change something with us, Pop.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Wymack says, squeezing him a bit tighter. “I’m always down to give this reminder, because it makes me happy saying it: Seth, you are my son.” He doesn’t comment on Seth shuddering with a half-sob at that. “In every way but blood, you are _my son_. I love you with all my heart, kid. Nothing and nobody is _ever_ going to take that from you.”

“Thank you,” Seth breathes, standing up some to wipe his face.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Wymack says, wiping Seth’s cheek before wiping his hand on his own shirt. “Even if you decide one day, you’re ready to hear him out—”

“Fat fucking chance,” Seth snaps before he can help himself.

Wymack’s eyebrows raise slightly. “Seth.”

Seth sighs, chastised a little. “Yes, sir?”

Wymack keeps a hand on his shoulder. “ _Whatever_ you decide about him. If you never want to speak to him again, if you want to rebuild that trust and have a relationship, start a father-son circus in fuckin’ Waxahachie, _whatever_ , you don’t have to worry about _us_ ,” he says, looking Seth right in his eyes “You’re not losing this family, not losing me,” he says with a fond smile. “I just want that to be clear. If there’s something you need to do to heal, you’re not risking our relationship by doing it, okay?”

Seth nods even though it’s a little uncomfortable. “Thanks, pop.”

“Sure. Now go tell your brothers good night so we can all get some sleep,” Wymack says finally, kissing his temple. “We can open Santa’s presents in the morning.”

They go to the bedroom and it’s a bit of a spectacle, Neil crawling out of the middle of everyone to get to Seth while Kevin is trying to sit up to get his kisses, too. Andrew predictably offers a fist bump, but doesn’t seem bothered to have been kept up or have everyone crowded in here.

By the time they all settle down, Seth is feeling settled enough to be sleepy, not just bone tired. Jean presses in close against his back, wraps him up for a while before they both drop off.

They’re woken gently by the sound of soft Christmas carols playing on the radio in the kitchen where Wymack is making coffee for the grownups and hot chocolate for the kiddos. They ease into the day with that same gentle warmth, everyone sleepily migrating through the bathroom and into the living room in their pajamas. Abby has dough for them to roll up into cinnamon rolls and little tubes of icing for everyone. Andrew finds sprinkles in the back of her pantry so quickly he must’ve hidden them there. They talk, about nearly anything but why Seth and Jean are there, but Neil is unabashedly happy to have other people to cuddle up to.

It’s only when they settle down to open presents—there aren’t many surprises, Nicky made them set up a spreadsheet years ago to keep from getting duplicates—that Neil gets all blushy and weird, fumbling with a poorly wrapped package. They’ve gone through all the clothing and art, a few pieces of jewelry, new calendars, and other little trinkets over a video call with the rest of the Foxes who had a moment to take away from their other relatives. Neil clearly had something hidden for after, though.

Wymack smirks at him. “Did you do that all by yourself, baby?”

Neil’s blush darkens even as he glares.

“Don’t be a dick,” Seth says and Wymack points him to the swear jar without even looking. Though he does shoot Seth a warning look when he sets his whole wallet on top of it. “Who’s the lucky winner?” his eyebrows raise when Neil motions at him. “Me?”

“I was gonna mail it. A while back you said you were too big for…” Neil starts to explain to the floor before shaking his head, looking up at Seth. “I wanted to get something for you, okay?”

“Sure,” Seth agrees, taking the package with a smile and ruffling Neil’s hair. “Thanks.”

“You haven’t even seen it yet,” Neil grouses.

“Keep your shirt on, I’m opening it!” Seth snaps without heat, but does start ripping open the wrapping as Neil sits nervously in Andrew’s lap.

The package opens to an old school metal Pokémon lunchbox that makes Seth throw his head back and laugh. “Neil, this is awesome! Where’d you get—?” he stops when he opens the lid and looks inside.

It’s a Game Boy Color and a stack of old cartridges. He can’t see all of them, not without unpacking it which he hasn’t convinced his hands to do yet, but he recognizes a copy of _Link’s Awakening_ and _Pokémon Blue_. And, thing is, Seth never had one. His oldest brothers saved up to get an N64 at the pawn shop one year that they rarely even let the younger ones look at if Rebecca wasn’t home (and she usually wasn’t). It was just an offhand conversation Seth had with Neil ages ago about how he’d always wanted his own Game Boy, constantly played his friends’ until he burned those bridges. He hadn’t meant for it to be dreary and it wasn’t! Really, they’d been talking over _Little Big Planet_ or something, just a casual conversation Seth hadn’t really thought much of.

But Neil had remembered. Neil pays attention to him and wants him to be happy, of course he does, Seth had known that but—

“Okay?” Neil asks, when Seth closes the lid. Then he watches in shock—as does everyone else—when Seth’s lip starts to wobble.

“Yeah, I, uh—It’s—” Seth takes a breath and holds it there, feeling stupid as his eyes well before he can even look in Neil’s direction. “Thank you?”

Neil’s face clears, wiped blank with shock before his brow pinches, touched. “Yes or no?”

Seth wipes a hand over his mouth. “Yeah, sure,” he says and Neil crawls up onto the sofa, shamelessly situating himself in Seth’s lap. He settles his arms around his neck when Seth bows to put his face in Neil’s shoulder. Though not nearly enough to hide how his eyebrows fold up like he may genuinely start crying again.

“Okay, this is getting so stupid,” he says, voice shaking like a cold drunk on a bike. He’d really like to get off the emotional Ferris wheel this holiday season, this can’t be good for his heart.

“You told me kids cry sometimes,” Neil says softly.

Jean makes an agreeing sound, tucking his feet under Seth’s thigh, just to touch him more than from being cold. “You’re little, too, Seth.”

So nobody rushes him while he works through this, but they do press in close until he sits back and kisses Neil’s cheek. “Neil, really, this is awesome. Thank you, it—it means a lot.”

Neil looks pleasantly embarrassed again, shifting to rest more comfortably against Seth’s legs. “I’m glad. It looked cool, but I wasn’t sure which you’d like.”

“We can share today,” Seth offers. “You ever played?”

Neil shakes his head, shrugs. “I only really play games with you or Mattie.”

That’s another thing Seth really probably already knew, but it’s touching to have it laid out like that.

Andrew waves at him. [There’s a Super Mario in there,] he signs slowly.

Seth smiles immediately. “Yeah? You want first go?”

Andrew shakes his head. [Neil needs the easiest level,] he says, unmoved by the ugly look Neil shoots him.

They spend the morning chatting and passing around Seth’s new Game Boy, replying to holiday messages from everyone, and generally just relaxing together.

Wymack takes a picture of them at one point, Abby sitting on the floor in front of the couch with Jean nearly in her lap, Neil sitting in Kevin’s to get in close enough to see, too. Andrew and Seth are posted on the couch behind her head to look over her shoulders. She has the most darling look of concentration on her face as Seth excitedly points at something on the screen. They’d been passing it around, but when the level was too hard for Neil, Abby endeavored to take a shot at it.

When Seth sees the picture on his phone later, it stings in its sweetness. Thinking of Christmas is always going to tie back to being a kid, a _real little kid_ and years’ worth of the mix ins of a broken household. But as an adult, it’s better, it’s so much better. He gets to have a family that loves him and that he can love back without constantly worrying about the next hurt. He even has pictures to prove it.

Even considering how they wound up there, that moment—the one frozen in a nice frame on their living room wall—is one of Seth’s favorite Christmas memories to date.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading…you deserve love and warmth (yes even you, yes even you)
> 
> If you’re looking for a smile, that image at the end there is inspired by [this reddit post](https://i.redd.it/6hp9lvbs0rz51.jpg) which Sparks Joy.
> 
> I wish you happy holidays and a better baseline in the new year, kits. 🧡🦊


End file.
